


Ghosts Inside My Brain

by twosidedcoin



Series: the evil triplet [1]
Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Alternatively titled: Don't mess with Louie's family, Angst and Feels, Everyone will seem a bit out of character, Gen, Honorary Duck Family Member Webby Vanderquack, Huey was raised by Ma Beagle, Louie is a master strategist, Ma Beagle is not good, Rather she believes it or not, Separated at birth AU, but I promise its still good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 03:22:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16359782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twosidedcoin/pseuds/twosidedcoin
Summary: Louie grew up an only child but he knew, deep down, that he's been missing something. Missing someone- two someones actually- and nothing is going to stop him from finding them.Not even Ma Beagle.





	Ghosts Inside My Brain

**Author's Note:**

> *Gasp
> 
> I've actually written a story without Dewey in it. Now that's rare.

Ever since Louie could remember he’s had the dreams.

They were always different and rarely made sense and, at first, they’d cause him to bolt upright screaming in blind terror until either Uncle Donald or Scrooge or even the occasional Mrs. Beakley rush into his room to soothe whatever frightful thing had taken seize of his insides.

 _It’s not real_ , they’d whisper, _it was only a dream. You’re okay. You’re safe now._

And Louie believed them.

He’d been a child and young but- more so than any of that- he’d _wanted_ to believe them. He’d wanted it to be true so badly that he convinced himself that they were just dreams. Nothing more. And the two identical faces he sees in them- sometimes in the sky and sometimes covered in dirt and filth and darkness- were just fragments of a child’s imagination.

Then Louie turned eleven, and everything changed.

* * *

 

Louie was rarely able to recall his dreams after he had them. The idea of them always stuck, wedged into the far corner of his brain where it’ll probably remain until the day he died, but the minute details alluded him the moment his eyes snap open and he’s bolting upright before he can realize he’s screaming.

Now was no different, though Webby’s head was a new addition to an otherwise dreaded situation.

“Ow! Webby!” he shouted at her, his chest still a knotted mess, and he could vaguely make out her pink form ducking away.

Webby was never the one that visited him after a dream. She explained- once- that she thought he’d feel better if it was a family member doing the comforting, but after Louie’s firm insistence that she was as much family as anyone else she seemed to have let the matter drop. Though Louie suspected she just never voiced it out loud.

That was why, after the familiar shock of the dream mixed with the new aching in his skull started to ebb away, he frowned at her nervous form. She looked serious, which wasn’t exactly abnormal for her. Ever since Louie could remember she’s always had shadows lurking behind her features. A darkness Louie wasn’t sure would ever leave her.

“Sorry,” she apologized, voice barely above a whisper, “I thought you didn’t have those anymore.”

Louie swallowed thickly, a lump swelling in the base of his throat. When he turned eight he’d stopped screaming after ever dream- only the bad ones spurring that strong of a reaction from him. When he turned nine it seemed all the major ones seemed gone.

“Not quite,” he offered then, as a change of subject, “What’s up?”

“Well you know how researching your family has always sort of been a hobby of mine,” Webby inquired sounding almost her age for once.

Louie rubbed at his forehead, nodded, “Sure.”

She met his gaze- back to being eons older than her twelve- as she said, “Tonight I’ve found something unbelievable.”

“And you came here?” Louie asked, shocked.

Louie couldn’t remember moving into the mansion with his rich uncle, but he’d been told that it had been after a great loss. Uncle Donald had needed the support, nearly broken, and Louie had always assumed it came after the disappearance of his mother. Uncle Donald had been her brother, her _twin_ , after all. Louie didn’t have any siblings of his own, but he always imagined that if he had and had lost them he’d be _crushed_.

Webby blinked back at him.

“Of course,” Webby replied, “It involves you.”

Louie’s stomach soured, acid burning the back of his throat. He didn’t like the look she narrowed on him, liked the idea that it was big enough that Webby would enter his room. His hands crinkled his comforter as he twisted it anxiously.

Webby’s eyes flickered to them before back to his face. She didn’t offer any immediate comfort, which made the bad feeling in Louie’s gut worsen.

She reached into her pocket, pulling out an ancient looking picture. Its corners were crumpled and bent, but it looked otherwise new. He reached over to flip on his bedside light before accepting the picture from Webby.

At first he was confused, then it felt a lot like the bottom of the world just disappeared.

He recognized Uncle Donald and Uncle Scrooge and had seen enough pictures of his mom to recognize her face as well. In front of them sat three identical eggs. It didn’t take long for the pieces to click together.

“No,” Louie denied first, quick and easy.

Webby only gave him a sympathetic look as she admitted, “I have a theory that your dreams are more than just dreams. And I have reason to believe that you’re not an only child. Louie, you have-”

“Brothers,” Louie finished for her, eyes wide and face pale as he met her gaze.

Webby nodded.

Louie glanced down at the picture before back to her, fingers crinkling the picture and his voice was thick when he said, “I want to find them. I _have_ to find them.”

Webby blinked, smirked and Louie’s never felt closer to her.

* * *

 

Louie didn’t get to meet one of his brothers until his twelfth birthday, and it had been by complete accident.

Webby dragged him outside, said he needed to take a break from all the constant searching she’s helped him conduct in secret for the past year. Louie hadn’t wanted to- consumed by the ghost of the what-ifs and implications of his dreams.

They were in trouble, and Louie _had_ to save them.

Louie only went because Webby leveled him with a look that said she was getting her way one way or another. She grinned at him, face softer than Louie can remember since he’s moved in Scrooge’s mansion.

It warmed Louie’s chest enough to push the anxiety that’s been bubbling inside him every day he went without finding the ghosts that’s haunted him since he was young. They were on their way to Funzos when Webby had suddenly frozen, reaching out to grasp onto his arm.

“Webby?” he asked.

She shushed him in return, eyes flickering around them as her entire body tensed. Ready for a fight. It made Louie nervous, and the longer they stood there the more uneasy he became. Then a shadow moved, small and thin, before Louie’s face dropped down in front of them.

Except it wasn’t Louie because Louie would never allow his features to get so dirty. Nor would he ever dare wear something so _old_.

“Who?” he barked voice sharp.

Webby shoved Louie behind her, straightening her spine and glaring down at the familiar figure. Louie reached out, instinctively, and grabbed onto her arm.

“Webby, no!” he screamed, yanking her back as his eyes remained glued to the face in front of him.

 _His_ face- the face of his brother- and Louie very much wanted to reach out and engulf him in a hug he had no intention of releasing. But his brother’s face remained cold and suspicious, eyes stuck on Louie’s own as if he could make sense of it by just staring. Webby didn’t move, remaining the steady force between the two.

“Who?” his brother demanded again.

It wasn’t as harsh this time. No longer nails scraping against glass, demanding attention. It was soft and confused and vulnerable and Louie knew it was irrational but he never wanted to hear his brother ( _he had a brother, a year later and he still couldn’t believe it_ ) sound so lost or defenseless again.

_I’ll protect you. I promise._

“My name is Llewellyn Duck, but my family calls me Louie. This is Webby, my sister,” Louie explained, pushing himself forward so he was closer to his brother.

Webby let him, keeping a firm grip around his bicep. She squeezed tightly when he called her his sister, but Louie paid her no mind. Her whole life she’s been told her purpose was to train and protect him- not be his friend. A thing she’s taken far too seriously.

His brother blinked slowly, nodded. He still seemed tense but no longer hostile. Louie took that as a good sign even though he recognized the Beagle Boy mark sewed over his brother’s breast and he knew he shouldn’t. But he’s spent every moment awake wishing he had siblings of his own and at night dreamt of the ones he had.

Now he was close enough to reach out and grab onto him and couldn’t. Not yet.

“Is there something we can call you?” Louie asked gently.

His brother stared at him for a long time. The silence stretched between them, stiff and firm and new. Louie waited patiently, eyes absorbing every detail he could of the brother. _His_ brother.

Then his brother replied simply, “Ma calls me Red or Cap depending on her mood. Feel free to choose your favorite.”

Anger rolled in his gut. Those weren’t names. Those were things, objects, and Ma Beagle has always been the worst but this was different. She was dehumanizing his brother because she could, and Louie hated it- hated her.

But he kept his face calm and accepting as he nodded and promised, “We’ll work on it.”

Red squinted suspiciously but Louie smiled back- as warm and bright as he could. It helped lessened the knife Red held in his gaze.

“You make the assumption that we’ll see each other again,” Red told him paused and then added cautiously, “Llewellyn.”

“That’s because we will,” Louie promised.

Red shrugged, eyes flickered to Webby and lingered a moment longer before he decided, “Farewell Llewellyn. Webby. Do yourselves a favor and don’t return.”

Then he was gone, and Louie started to plan.

* * *

 

Uncle Donald found him lying in his bed, cover pulled over his head and staring at the picture of him and his two brothers together before they hatched- his mom and two uncles standing behind them. A better time- one Louie wished he could remember.

“Louie?” he uncle’s tentative voice asked as he gently pushed Louie’s door open.

Louie rolled over on his side, stuffing the picture back under his pillow. Uncle Donald didn’t know he had it and Louie was terrified that if he found out then he’d take it from him. And Louie wasn’t ready to lose the closest thing he had to his missing brothers.

“What’s up Uncle Dee?” Louie replied sweetly.

His uncle fidgeted nervously in his doorway, eyes wide and shiny and soft. He was worried about him. No surprise there considering Louie’s been acting weird ever since Webby gave him the picture. Gave him the one thing he’s been chasing his whole life- his brothers.

Now it was up to Louie to find them and bring them home, where they belong. Where they’ve always belonged.

“I was just wondering how Louie Incorporated was going,” Uncle Donald tried, “I haven’t heard you talk about it in a while.”

That was because Louie had found something infinitely more important. Precious beyond comprehension and if Uncle Donald knew then he’d understand. Except Uncle Donald can’t know because he’d tried to stop him. And Louie couldn’t stop. _Wouldn’t_ stop.

“It’s good,” Louie promised, “Why do you ask?”

Louie already knew the answer, of course. Uncle Donald asked because Louie had started the business when he was seven, and until recently it’s been the most important thing in Louie’s life. He’d speak of it, nonstop, and it’s been blossomed into something impressive despite Louie’s youth.

Uncle Donald didn’t say any of that. He just shrugged and gave him _a look_ that said it for him. Louie’s fingers fiddled with the picture under his pillow.

“I was thinking of asking Webby to start helping me run some of the numbers,” Louie told him, “I think I could use the help.”

A lie. Numbers came as naturally to Louie as breathing. He could sort through them with a speed that impressed all of Uncle Scrooge’s accountants, and he could run through various scenarios and pick the best path with just as much ease.

But his brothers alluded him. Where they went, what happened to them. Everything they’ve endured since having been stolen. That was something Louie was still trying to comprehend- to figure out- and until he found them he supposed it couldn’t hurt to ask for help. As minimal as it was.

Uncle Donald smiled at him, and Louie wondered if his other brother had someone like Uncle Donald. He now knew Red didn’t, and he suspected the other didn’t either but Louie sure hoped he did. Hoped with every fiber he had.

“That’s good,” Uncle Donald told him, “I’m glad to see you two have finally found something in common.”

Louie nodded before he decided, “I’m really tired Uncle Donald. Birthday exhaustion, you know.”

Uncle Donald smiled and receded, “Sure. Goodnight Louie. I love you more than anything in this world. You know that right?”

“Of course Uncle,” Louie beamed back, “I love you too.”

Uncle Donald kissed his forehead before slipping out of Louie’s room. Louie counted to two hundred twenty six before he slipped from bed. His birthday may be over, but he knew someone whose wasn’t.

* * *

 

“You shouldn’t have come- especially not alone,” Red told him, weight pressing Louie into the darkness as his dark eyes bore down on him.

Louie grinned back.

In truth he’d considered inviting Webby, but he needed to speak to his brother alone. He wasn’t sure why- was smart enough to understand that wandering around in Beagle territory was a bad idea- but he’s always been a bit stupid when it came to his family.

“I brought you a present,” Louie said back.

He brought out the carefully wrapped parcel he’d brought. He’d bought it on the way over- a spur of the moment decision. Red stared down at it distrusting.

“It’s for you,” Louie informed him- shaking the parcel, “For your birthday.”

Red’s eyes grew and his beak opened in shock. Louie gave him a mischievous smirk, pressing the gift into his brother’s chest. Everything inside him so very badly wanted to reach out, wrap his brother in a hug and tell him how they were brothers. Triplets. Two pieces of three that had been separated before they could know one another.

He didn’t.

He just waited until Red took the gift from him. Hands- small and delicate- unwrapping the surprise and because they were so close Louie saw the way Red’s face twisted into shock as he pulled out the red baseball cap.

“It’s for your head,” Louie explained, “Figured I should give the nickname Cap something in order for it to make more sense.”

Red rubbed at the empty space on top of his head before moving- slowly- until the gift sat on top. When he looked back at Louie it was to see his beaming face. Red’s face dropped to one of confusion as he took in Louie’s features, and Louie suddenly felt bad.

“Why?” he asked back to sounding fragile.

“It’s a present,” Louie informed him, “for your birthday.”

“I’ve never gotten a present before,” Red protested, seemingly waiting for the trick and though Louie was excellent at pulling tricks he’s determined to never give one to either his family or lost brothers.

Louie shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets and said, “It’s a thing family does. In celebration.”

Red stared- long and hard- before he allowed a hesitant expression to cross his features and he replied, “Thank you Llewellyn. I appreciate it.”

Louie nodded again, and when Huey reached out to pull Louie into a tight hug a warmth unlike anything he’s ever felt before burst inside his ribcage. And even after Red pulled away and Louie revealed the red velvet cupcake with cream cheese frosting and bundle of wax candles or Louie’s watch beeped and he determined he had to leave the feeling stayed.

* * *

 

That night Louie dreamt of Red, locked in a dark room and pressed into himself as he made soft choking sounds. Louie woke crying.

* * *

 

Louie spent two weeks searching for Red or his other brother, desperate to find one and _help_ , but it was like Ma Beagle and her sons had just disappeared. Then he woke up one night to find a dark shape sitting in his window, tapping on the glass.

Louie didn’t scream, recognizing the cap he’d gifted his brother two weeks ago. Louie scrambled out from his bed, quick to yank open the window allowing a quick burst of frosty air inside. He paid the cold no mind as Red’s fingers scrambled to find purchase on him.

“I’m sorry Llewelyn,” Red apologized quickly, “I shouldn’t have come. I shouldn’t bother you with this I just didn’t know where else to go.”

“It’s okay,” Louie promised as he drug Red towards the bed, flipping on his bedside light and froze.

Spread across the left side of his brother’s face was a bruise- bright and ugly- and Louie felt the ice drop individually in his stomach. One at a time, spreading the cold through him slowly. Red’s fingers scrambled for Louie’s chin, pulling his attention back to his eyes.

“I’m fine Llewellyn,” Red promised, “Ma was just angry about your gift. She threatened to burn it, but I wouldn’t let her. I won’t.”

“Ah. I’m sorry,” Louie apologized quickly, “I hadn’t thought-”

“It’s okay,” Red reassured, “I just needed to get away for a moment, and I really hate to ask but I didn’t know where else to go.”

“You’re always welcomed here,” Louie promised, drawing Red to his chest and just holding him for a long moment.

Red sniffled in his chest, small and broken and Louie couldn’t imagine living a life where everything you did was wrong or stupid or deserving of punishment. Louie hated that Red didn’t have to imagine it. That he’s lived it- still living it.

When Louie pulled away this time it was to take Red’s face gently in his hands, taking in the bruise. It was old, burying even older ones underneath it. Louie wondered how many layers of unseen scars Red held.

“I think we have some antibiotics in the bathroom,” Louie informed him.

Red followed, hand twisted into the back of Louie’s favorite hoodie- ruining the fabric. Louie found he didn’t mind that much.

* * *

 

They ended up in the kitchen, Red sat atop one of the bar stools with a tub of ice cream propped in his lap while Louie made him something to eat. Red said nothing as he scraped at the top of the dessert with his spoon. Mindlessly.

That was okay because Louie spoke enough for the both of them. He talked about school and Louie Incorporated and everything he’s ever worked for since birth. He finished by handing Red the sandwich he made him but before he could turn around to fetch him a glass of water it was gone.

Red looked almost regretful as he finished the rest of the ice cream as well. Louie only smiled as he offered him a bowl of soup and it was almost four in the morning before Louie got Red to lie down on the sofa he had in his bedroom.

“Goodnight Red,” Louie told him, pulling a spare quilt over his brother’s drowsy form, “We still have to do something about that name.”

“Thank you Llewellyn.”

Louie turned to glance down at his brother, but Red had already rolled over in an attempt at sleeping

“For what?”

Silence. Then,

“Caring.”

* * *

 

Red was gone before Louie’s alarm went off at six in the morning. He’d folded the quilt careful, tacking a note to the fabric.

_Llewellyn,_

_I’m sorry but I couldn’t risk Ma coming to find me under your care. I’m sorry. I should have never involved you._

_Goodbye forever,_

_Red_

Louie crumpled the paper and tossed it in the trash.

* * *

 

Red hadn’t come to him because he’d been scared or beaten or hurt. He’d come because he’d known Louie held a soft spot for him and would’ve let him inside Scrooge’s mansion without asking any questions.

Louie knew that- even before he’d opened the window for him. Before Louie checked his room to find what he was missing. Red only thought Ma Beagle was the one with the plan, the one who laid everything out so perfectly all she had to do was sit back and watch it play out. She wasn’t the only one that can come up with a plan however.

And Louie was the master of plans.

* * *

 

Webby had been the one who found the box, had been the one that wrote down two names and slipped them to him. She was also the one that gave him a serious look- one that asked if he was certain he was willing to let one of their enemies so close to his family.

Red wasn’t an enemy, though. He was his brother, and it was about time he came home.

Three nights after the note Louie woke to find Red back in his window. This time was different. This time he was clutching the picture of them before they hatched, and he was shaking.

“What kind of joke is this?” he demanded, voice hot and betrayed.

“No trick,” Louie reassured him, “That was us before we hatched. Me, you and our other brother. Three pieces separated at birth.”

“There are no pieces, and this isn’t real,” Red accused, “You’re messing with me.”

“I assure you the only one that’s ever messed with you is Ma Beagle. After she kidnapped you and I know that deep down you’ve always seen that,” Louie told him, “Your name is Hubert and you’re a Duck. You’re my brother.”

Hubert shook his head, tears welling in the corners of his eyes as he threw the picture at Louie’s feet. A split second later the hat Louie had bought him landed there as well.

“You’re not my family Llewellyn,” Hubert told him cruelly, “Your world is not my own.”

“It can be,” Louie promised without moving, “Come inside. We’ll talk about it.”

Hubert paused and for a brief moment Louie thought that he was going to take him up on his offer. Then he turned and left, darkness swallowing him whole.

* * *

 

Ma Beagle didn’t take her authority being threatened lightly, and Louie wasn’t surprised when he found himself being kidnapped by her sons while running errands for Louie Incorporated. She was nothing if not tenacious and sometimes vengeance was enough to get smart people to do stupid things.

“You’ve been poisoning my son’s brain,” she snarled at him when the hood left his face, piercing eyes glaring down at him.

“My brother is not your son, and I swear if you’ve hurt him I’ll make you regret ever touching him,” Louie swore- not sure what’d he do but positive the repercussions wouldn’t be taken lightly.

Uncle Scrooge and Donald were already going to rip the town apart to get him back. Louie promised himself he was going to do the same to save Hubert.

Ma Beagle laughed- loud and boisterous- before she demanded, “And what’s that little duckling?”

Louie glared, his voice poison as he spoke, “Twelve years ago you stole one of my brothers from me and twelve years is a long time to think of a meaningful punishment.”

Ma Beagle only snickered before she gave a low whistle and two Beagle Boys brought in a small squirming figure. Louie’s breathe caught at the line of new bruises that now donned Hubert’s face, and when their eyes met Hubert froze. Horror donning on his features as he already started shaking his head and begging for Ma Beagle’s mercy.

Not for himself but for Louie.

It made Louie ill.

“McDuck’s brat was just telling me how I’ve stolen you when you were young,” Ma Beagle told him, low and cruel, “Tell me, do you believe him?”

“Of course not,” Hubert lied, “You’re my family. I know that. Just, _please_ , let him go.”

Ma Beagle was silent a long time before a harsh laugh escaped her throat and she proclaimed, “You’re as big a fool as I’ve always thought Red.”

Hubert flinched and Louie growled.

“His name isn’t Red or Cap or whatever else you’ve concocted,” Louie told her lowly, “His name is Hubert Duck, Heir to Scrooge McDuck and he’s coming home with me.”

“And what makes you think you’re going home at all?” Ma Beagle demanded about the same time an explosion rocked the walls around them.

Louie’s grin was sharp and dangerous as he said, “Because our family has come for us.”

Ma Beagle growled again, reaching inside her purse and pulling out a crowbar before taking a threatening step towards him. Louie didn’t flinch, just stared up at her unrelentingly.

Hubert was the one to cry out, “No! Louie!” and there was a flash of red as he leapt towards Louie’s assailant.

He lasted about five seconds before Ma got a solid hit between his ribs, sending him sprawling at Louie’s feet. Louie screamed, blood burning for retaliation as red lined the edges of his vision, but his family was quicker.

Uncle Donald seemed to have materialized from nowhere, grabbing onto Ma Beagle’s raised crowbar and sending her spiraling in the other direction. Uncle Scrooge right beside him, his uncles an immovable force.

Webby was the one who untied him, and though she didn’t say anything Louie could feel her berating him with her eyes. He chose to ignore her, leaping towards his brother the moment he was free.

“Hubert!” he cried, panicked because his brother was still bent over and making pained noises and Louie couldn’t lose him. Not while he’d been so close.

“I’m… fine,” Hubert choked, sitting up in Louie’s arms, “And… prefer… Huey. Sounds like… Louie.”

“Okay,” Louie promised, drawing him to his chest and refusing to let go, “Let’s go home Huey.”

Huey nodded against his neck and for the first time since he could remember Louie felt a part of him that’s always been empty swell into something soft and real and precious. And Louie wasn’t giving him up for anything in the world.

* * *

 

Huey actually spent two days in the infirmary- time both his uncles took to berate Louie into doing something so irresponsible and rash and he could have died. Louie took it all in without saying anything. There wasn’t anything left to say. He’d do it the same all over again given the chance.

Then Uncle Donald had embraced him and whispered, “Let’s go see your brother.”

Two days later, Huey was sitting in Louie’s bedroom with Louie pressed into his side. They were on Louie’s tablet searching for bunkbeds because they had a lot of time to catch up on when Huey brought it up.

“The picture you gave me,” he said slowly, like he’d been thinking about this for a long time now, “There were three eggs.”

Louie looked at his brother and nodded, waited.

“We have a third brother,” Huey continued, looking troubled, “Where is he?”

“I don’t know,” Louie admitted, “The sky, I think. That’s where he is in my dreams at least. I can’t really find much more than that on him. It was a miracle I found you at all.”

Huey pressed further into his side as he hummed, “I’m glad you did, but we can’t rely on any more miracles. If he’s out there then he needs us. He needs his brothers.”

And Louie had never had the intention of ceasing searching for the third piece of himself but had planned on keeping Huey as far from it as possible. He’d been through enough, but when he narrowed that look onto Huey he realized Huey had felt it too.

They’d been separated far too long and nothing was going to stop them from coming back together. It was a feeling Louie hasn’t shared with anyone before and something warm bubbled up in his chest as he realized he was no longer alone in that aspect.

“We’ll find him,” Louie promised.

And he meant every word.


End file.
